every man in his humour by ben johnson

Every Man in His HumourBen Jonson

Table of ContentsEvery Man in His Humour.......................................................................................................................................1

Ben Jonson.....................................................................................................................................................1Act 1...............................................................................................................................................................1Scene 1.1........................................................................................................................................................1Scene 1.2......................................................................................................................................................10Scene 1.3......................................................................................................................................................16Scene 1.4......................................................................................................................................................27Act 2.............................................................................................................................................................36Scene 2.1......................................................................................................................................................36Scene 2.2......................................................................................................................................................41Scene 2.3......................................................................................................................................................45Act 3.............................................................................................................................................................58Scene 3.1......................................................................................................................................................58Scene 3.2......................................................................................................................................................68Scene 3.3......................................................................................................................................................76Scene 3.4......................................................................................................................................................84Scene 3.5......................................................................................................................................................96Scene 3.6......................................................................................................................................................98Act 4...........................................................................................................................................................100Scene 4.1....................................................................................................................................................100Act 5...........................................................................................................................................................121Scene 5.1....................................................................................................................................................121

Every Man in His Humour

i

Every Man in His HumourBen Jonson

Oxford Text Archive, Oxford University Computing Services, 13 Banbury Road, Oxford OX2 6NN;[email protected]

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by

Ben Jonson

Prepared from 1601 Quarto (STC 14766) by Hugh Craig, D of English, U of Newcastle. OTA A1437A

Act 1

Scene 1.1

D

Now trust me, here is a goodly day toward. Musco, call up my son Lorenzo: bid him rise: tell him, I have somebusinesse to imploy him in.

B

I will, sir, presently.

D

But heare you, sirrah; If he be at study, disturbe him not.

B

Very good, sir.

Every Man in His Humour 1

Exit Musco.

DHow happy would I estimate my selfe,Could I (by any meane) retyre my son,From one vayne course of study he affects?He is a scholler (if a man may trustThe lib'rall voyce of doubletoung'd report)Of deare account, in all our Academies.Yet this position must not breede in meA fast opinion, that he cannot erre.My selfe was once a student, and indeedeFed with the selfesame humor he is now,Dreaming on nought but idle Poetrie:But since, Experience hath awakt my spirit's,Enter Stephano.

DAnd reason taught them, how to comprehendThe soueraigne vse of study. What, cousin Stephano?What newes with you, that you are here so earely?

I

Nothing: but eene come to see how you do, vncle.

D

That is kindly done, you are welcome, cousin.

I

Aye, I know that sir, I would not have come else: how doeth my cousin, vncle?

D

O well, well, goe in and see; I doubt he is scarce stirring yet.

I



Vncle, afore I goe in, can you tell me, if he have ever booke of the sciences of hawking and hunting? I wouldfayne borrow it.

D

Why I hope you will not a hawking now, will you?

I

No wusse; but I will practise against next yeare: I have bought me a hawke, and bels and all; I lacke nothing but abooke to keepe it by.

D

O most ridiculous.

I

Nay looke you now, you are angrie vncle, why you know, if a man have not skill in hawking and hunting nowadaies, I will not give a rush for him; he is for no gentlemans company, and (by Gods will) I scorne it aye, so I do,to be a consort for euerie humdrum; hang them scroiles, there is nothing in them in the world, what do you talkeof it? a gentleman must shew himselfe like a gentleman, vncle I pray you be not angrie, I know what I have to doI trow, I am no nouice.

DGo to, you are a prodigal, and selfewild foole,Nay never looke at me, it is I that speake,Take it as you will, I will not flatter you.What? have you not meanes inow to wastThat which your friends have left you, but you mustGo cast away your money on a Buzzard,And know not how to keepe it when you have done?O it is braue, this will make you a gentleman,Well Cosen well, I see you are e'ene past hopeOf all reclaime; aye so, now you are told of it,you looke another way.

IWhat would you have me do trow?



DWhat would I have you do? maryLearne to be wise, and practise how to thriue,That I would have you do, and not to spendYour crownes on euerie one that humors you:I would not have you to intrude your selfeIn euerie gentlemans societie,Till their affections or your owne desert,Do worthily inuite you to the place.For he that is so respectlesse in his course,Oft sels his reputation vile and cheape.Let not your cariage, and behauiour tasteOf affectation, lest while you pretendTo make a blaze of gentrie to the worldA little puffe of scorne extinguish it,And you be left like an vnsauorie snuffe,Whose propertie is onely to offend.Cosen, lay by such superficiall formes,And entertaine a perfect reall substance,Stand not so much on your gentility,Enter a seruingman.

DBut moderate your expences (now at first)As you may keepe the same proportion still.Beare a low saile: soft who is this comes here?

V

Gentlemen, God saue you.

I

Welcome good friend, we do not stand much upon our gentilitie; yet I can assure you mine vncle is a man of athousand pounde land a yeare; he hath but one son in the world; I am his next heire, as simple as I stand here, ifmy cosen die: I have a faire liuing of mine owne too beside.

V

In good time sir.

I



In good time sir? you do not flout, do you?

V

Not I sir.

I

If you should, here be them can perceiue it, and that quickly too: Go to, and they can give it againe soundly, ifneed be.

V

Why sir let this satisfie you. Good faith I had no such intent.

I

By God, if I thought you had sir, I would talke with you.

V

So you may sir, and at your pleasure.

I

And so I would sir, if you were out of mine vncles ground, I can tell you.

D

Why how now cosen, will this nere be left?

I

Horson base fellow, by Gods lid, if it were not for shame, I would.



DWhat would you do? you peremptorie Asse,If you will not be quiet, get you hence.You see, the gentleman contaynes himselfeIn modest limits, giving no replyTo your vnseason'd rude comparatiues;Yet you will demeane your selfe, without respectEyther of duty, or humanity.Goe get you in: fore God I am asham'dExit Steph.

DThou hast a kinsmans interest in me.

V

I pray you, sir, is this Pazzi house?

D

Yes mary is it, sir.

V

I should enquire for a gentleman here, one Signior Lorenzo di pazzi; do you know any such, sir, I pray you?

DYes, sir: or else I should forget my selfe,

V

I crye you mercy, sir, I was requested by a gentleman of Florence (hauing some occasion to ride this way) todeliuer you this letter.

D

To me, sir? What do you meane? I pray you remember your curt'sy.



ETo his deare and most elected friend, Signior Lorenzo di Pazzi.

D

What might the gentlemans name be, sir, that sent it: Nay, pray you be couer'd.

V

Signior Prospero.

D

Signior Prospero? A young gentleman of the family of Strozzi, is he not?

V

Aye, sir, the same: Signior Thorello, the rich Florentine merchant married his sister.

Enter Musco.

D

You say very true. Musco.

B

Sir.

D

Make this Gentleman drinke, here. I pray you goe in, sir, if it please you.

Exeunt.



DNow (without doubt) this letter is to my son.Well: all is one: I will be so bold as reade it,Be it but for the styles sake, and the phrase;Both which (I do presume) are excellent,And greatly varied from the vulgar forme,If Prospero's inuention gaue them life.How now? what stuff is here?

E

Sirrah Lorenzo, I muse we cannot see thee at Florence: S'blood, I doubt, Apollo hath got thee to be his Ingle, thatthou commest not abroad, to visit thine old friends: well, take heede of him; he may do some what for hishoushold seruants, or so; But for his Retayners, I am sure, I have knowne some of them, that have followed him,three, foure, fiue yeere together, scorning the world with their bare heeles, and at length bene glad for a shift,(though no cleane shift) to lye a whole winter, in halfe a sheete, cursing Charles wayne, and the rest of the starresintolerably. But (quis contra diuos?) well; Sirrah, sweete villayne, come and see me; but spend one minute in mycompany, and it is inough: I think I have a world of good Iests for thee: o sirrah, I can shew thee two of the mostperfect, rare, and absolute true Gulls, that euer thou saw'st, if thou wilt come. S'blood, inuent some famousmemorable lye, or other, to flap thy father in the mouth withall: thou hast bene father of a thousand, in thy dayes,thou could'st be no Poet else: any sciruy roguish excuse will serue; say thou com'st but to fetch wooll for thineInkehorne. And then too, thy Father will say thy wits are a woollgathering. But it is no matter; the worse, thebetter. Anything is good inough for the old man. Sirrah, how if thy Father should see this now? what would hethink of me? Well, (howeuer I write to thee) I reuerence him in my soule, for the generall good all Florencedeliuers of him. Lorenzo, I coniure thee (by what, let me see) by the depth of our love, by all the strange sights wehave seene in our dayes, (aye or nights eyther) to come to me to Florence this day. Go to, you shall come, and letyour Muses goe spinne for once. If thou wilt not, s'hart, what is your gods name? Apollo? Aye; Apollo. If thismelancholy rogue (Lorenzo here) do not come, graunt, that he do turne Foole presently, and never hereafter, beable to make a good Iest, or a blanke verse, but liue in more penurie of wit and Inuention, then eyther theHallBeadle, or Poet Nuntius.

DWell, it is the strangest letter that euer I read.Is this the man, my son (so oft) hath prays'dTo be the happiest, and most pretious witThat euer was familiar with Art?Now (by our Ladies blessed son) I sweare,I rather think him most infortunate,In the possession of such holy giftes,Being the master of so loose a spirit.Why what vnhallowed ruffian would have writ,With so prophane a pen, vnto his friend?The modest paper eene lookes pale for griefeTo feele her virgincheeke defilde and staindWith such a blacke and criminall inscription.Well, I had thought my son could not have straied,So farre from iudgement, as to mart himselfe



Thus cheapely, (in the open trade of scorne)To geering follie, and fantastique humour.But now I see opinion is a foole,And hath abusde my sences. Musco.Enter Musco.

B

Sir.

D

What is the fellow gone that brought this letter?

B

Yes sir, a prettie while since.

D

And where is Lorenzo?

B

In his chamber sir.

D

He spake not with the fellow, did he?

B

No sir, he saw him not.

D



Then Musco take this letter, and deliuer it vnto Lorenzo: but sirrah, (on your life) take you no knowledge I haveopen'd it.

B

O Lord sir, that were a iest in deed.

Exit Mus.

DI am resolu'd I will not crosse his iourney,Nor will I practise any violent meane,To stay the hot and lustie course of youth.For youth restraind straight growes impatient,And (in condition) like an eager dogge,Who (never so little from his game withheld)Turnes head and leapes up at his masters throat.Therefore I will studie (by some milder drift)To call my son vnto a happier shrift.Exit.

Scene 1.2

B

Yes sir, (on my word) he opend it, and read the contents.

F

It scarse contents me that he did so. But Musco didst thou obserue his countenance in the reading of it, whether hewere angrie or pleasde?

B

Why sir I saw him not reade it.

F

No? how knowest thou then that he opend it?


Scene 1.2 10

BMarry sir because he charg'd me (on my life) to tell no body that he opend it, which (vnlesse he had done) hewold never feare to have it reueald.

FThat is true: well Musco hie thee in againe,Least thy protracted absence do lend light,Enter Stephan.

FTo darke suspition: Musco be assurdeI will not forget this thy respectiue love.

I

O Musco, didst thou not see a fellow here in a whatshacallum doublet; he brought mine vncle a letter euennow?

B

Yes sir, what of him?

I

Where is he, canst thou tell?

B

Why he is gone.

I

Gone? which way? when went he? how long since?


Scene 1.2 11

BIt is almost halfe an houre ago since he rid hence.

I

Horson Scanderbag rogue, o that I had a horse; by Gods lidde I would fetch him backe againe, with heaue and ho.

B

Why you may have my masters bay gelding, and you will.

I

But I have no boots, that is the spite of it.

B

Then it is no boot to follow him. Let him go and hang sir.

I

Aye by my troth; Musco, I pray thee help to trusse me a little; nothing angers me, but I have waited such a whilefor him all vnlac'd and vntrust yonder, and now to see he is gone the other way.

B

Nay I pray you stand still sir.

I

I will, I will: o how it vexes me.

B


Scene 1.2 12

Tut, never vexe your selfe with the thought of such a base fellow as he.

I

Nay to see, he stood upon poynts with me too.

B

Like inough so; that was, because he saw you had so fewe at your hose.

I

What? Hast thou done? Godamercy, good Musco.

B

I marle, sir, you weare such illfauourd course stockings, hauing so good a legge as you have.

I

Fo, the stockings be good inough for this time of the yeere; but I will have a payre of silke, ere it be long: I think,my legge would shewe well in a silke hose.

B

Aye afore God would it rarely well.

I

In sadnesse I think it would: I have a reasonable good legge.

B

You have an excellent good legge, sir: I pray you pardon me, I have a little haste in, sir.


Scene 1.2 13

IA thousand thankes, good Musco.

Exit.

I

What, I hope he laughs not at me; if he do

F

Here is a style indeed, for a mans fences to leape ouer, ere they come at it: why, it is able to breake the shinnes ofany old mans patience in the world. My father reade this with patience? Then will I be made an Eunuch, andlearne to sing Ballads. I do not deny, but my father may have as much patience as any other man; for he vses totake phisicke, and oft taking phisicke, makes a man a very patient creature. But, Signior Prospero, had yourswaggering Epistle here, arriued in my fathers hands, at such an houre of his patience, (I meane, when he had tanephisicke) it is to be doubted, whether I should have read sweete villayne here. But, what? My wise cousin; Naythen, I will furnish our feast with one Gull more toward a messe; he writes to me of two, and here is one, that isthree, in fayth. O for a fourth: now, Fortune, or never Fortune.

I

O, now I see who he laught at: he laught at some body in that letter. By this good light, if he had laught at me, Iwould have told mine vncle.

F

Cousin Stephano: good morrow, good cousin, how fare you?

I

The better for your asking, I will assure you, I have beene all about to seeke you; since I came I saw mine vncle;and in faith how have you done this great while? Good Lord, by my troth I am glad you are well cousin.

F


Scene 1.2 14

And I am as glad of your comming, I protest to you, for I am sent for by a priuate gentleman, my most specialldeare friend, to come to him to Florence this morning, and you shall go with me cousin, if it please you, not els, Iwill enioyne you no further then stands with your owne consent, and the condition of a friend.

I

Why cousin you shall command me if it were twise so farre as Florence to do you good; what do you think I willnot go with you? I protest.

F

Nay, nay, you shall not protest.

I

By God, but I will sir, by your leaue I will protest more to my friend then I will speake of at this time.

F

You speake very well sir.

I

Nay not so neither, but I speake to serue my turne.

F

Your turne? why cousin, a gentleman of so faire sort as you are, of so true cariage, so speciall good parts: of sodeare and choice estimation; one whose lowest condition beares the stampe of a great spirit; nay more, a man sograc'd, guilded, or rather (to vse a more fit Metaphor) tinfoyld by nature, (not that you have a leaden constitution,couze, although perhaps a little inclining to that temper, and so the more apt to melt with pittie, when you fall intothe fire of rage) but for your lustre onely, which reflects as bright to the world as an old Alewiues pewter againea good time; and will you now (with nice modestie) hide such reall ornaments as these, and shadow their glorie asa Millaners wife doth her wrought stomacher, with a smoakie lawne or a blacke cipresse? Come, come, for ashame do not wrong the qualitie of your desert in so poore a kind: but let the Idea of what you are, be portraied inyour aspect, that men may reade in your lookes; Here within this place is to be seene, the most admirable rare andaccomplisht worke of nature; Cousin what think you of this?


Scene 1.2 15

IMarry I do think of it, and I will be more melancholie, and gentlemanlike then I have beene, I do ensure you.

F

Why this is well: now if I can but hold up this humor in him, as it is begun, Catso for Florence, match him if shecan; Come cousin.

I

I will follow you.

F

Follow me? you must go before.

I

Must I? nay then I pray you shew me good cousin.

Exeunt.

Scene 1.3

J

I think this be the house: what howgh?

G

Who is there? o Signior Matheo. God give you good morrow sir.

J


Scene 1.3 16

What? Cob? how doest thou good Cob? doest thou inhabite here Cob?

G

Aye sir, I and my lineage have kept a poore house in our daies.

J

Thy lineage monsieur Cob? what lineage, what lineage?

G

Why sir, an ancient lineage, and a princely: mine ancetrie came from a kings loynes, no worse man; and yet noman neither, but Herring the king of fish, one of the monarches of the world I assure you. I do fetch my pedegreeand name from the first redde herring that was eaten in Adam, and Eves kitchin: his Cob was my great, great,mighty great grandfather.

J

Why mightie? why mightie?

G

O it is a mightie while agoe sir, and it was a mightie great Cob.

J

How knowest thou that?

G

How know I? why his ghost comes to me euery night.

J


Scene 1.3 17

O vnsauorie iest: the ghost of a herring Cob.

G

Aye, why not the ghost of a herring Cob, as well as the ghost of Rashero Baccono, they were both broild on thecoales: you are a scholler, vpsolue me that now.

J

O rude ignorance. Cob canst thou shew of me, of a gentleman, one Signior Bobadilla, where his lodging is?

G

O my guest sir, you meane?

J

Thy guest, alas? ha, ha.

G

Why do you laugh sir? do you not meane signior Bobadilla?

J

Cob I pray thee aduise thy selfe well: do not wrong the gentleman, and thy selfe too. I dare be sworne he scornesthy house he. He lodge in such a base obscure place as thy house? Tut, I know his disposition so well, he wouldnot lie in thy bed if thou would'st give it him.

G

I will not give it him. Masse I thought (somewhat was in it) we could not get him to bed all night. Well sir, thoughhe lie not on my bed, he lies on my bench, if it please you to go up sir, you shall find him with two cushions vnderhis head, and his cloake wrapt about him, as though he had neither won nor lost, and yet I warrant he never castbetter in his life then he hath done to night.


Scene 1.3 18

JWhy was he drunke?

G

Drunk sir? you heare not me say so; perhaps he swallow'd a tauerne token, or some such deuise sir; I have nothingto do withal: I deale with water and not with wine. Give me my tankard there, ho. God be with you sir, it is sixe aclocke: I should have caried two turnes by this, what ho? my stopple come.

J

Lie in a waterbearers house, a gentleman of his note? well I will tell him my mind.

Exit.

G

What Tib, shew this gentleman up to Signior Bobadilla: o if my house were the Brazen head now, faith it wouldeene crie more fooles yet: you should have some now, would take him to be a gentleman at the least; alas Godhelpe the simple, his father is an honest man, a good fishmonger, and so forth: and now doth he creep and wriggleinto acquaintance with all the braue gallants about the towne, such as my guest is, (o my guest is a fine man) andthey flout him inuinciblie. He vseth euery day to a Marchants house (where I serue water) one M. Thorellos; andhere is the iest, he is in love with my masters sister, and cals her mistres: and there he sits a whole afternoonesometimes, reading of these same abhominable, vile, (a poxe on them, I cannot abide them) rascally verses,Poetrie, poetrie, and speaking of Enterludes, it will make a man burst to heare him: and the wenches, they do sogeere and tihe at him; well, should they do as much to me, I would forsweare them all, by the life of Pharoah,there is an oath: how many waterbearers shall you heare sweare such an oath? o I have a guest (he teacheth me)he doth sweare the best of any man christned: By Pho ebus, By the life of Pharaoh, By the body of me, As I amgentleman, and a soldier: such daintie oathes; and withall he doth take this same filthie roaguish Tabacco thefinest, and cleanliest; it wold do a man good to see the fume come forth at his nostrils: well, he owes me fortieshillings (my wife lent him out of her purse; by sixpence a time) besides his lodging; I would I had it: I shall haveit he saith next Action. Helter skelter, hang sorrow, care will kill a cat, vptailes all, and a poxe on the hangman.

Exit.Bobadilla discouers himselfe: on a bench; to him Tib.

C

Hostesse, hostesse.


Scene 1.3 19

OWhat say you sir?

C

A cup of your small beere sweet hostesse.

O

Sir, there is a gentleman below would speake with you.

C

A gentleman, (Gods #so) I am not within.

O

My husband told him you were sir.

C

What ha plague? what meant he?

J

Signior Bobadilla.

Matheo within.

C

Who is there? (take away the bason good hostesse) come up sir.

O


Scene 1.3 20

He would desire you to come up sir; you come into a cleanly house here.

J

God saue you sir, God saue you.

Enter Matheo

C

Signior Matheo, is it you sir? please you sit downe.

J

I thanke you good Signior, you may see, I am somewhat audacious.

C

Not so Signior, I was requested to supper yesternight by a sort of gallants where you were wisht for, and drunke toI assure you.

J

Vouchsafe me by whom good Signior.

C

Marrie by Signior Prospero, and others, why hostesse, a stoole here for this gentleman.

J

No haste sir, it is very well.

C


Scene 1.3 21

Bodie of me, it was so late ere we parted last night, I can scarse open mine eyes yet; I was but new risen as youcame: how passes the day abroad sir? you can tell.

J

Faith some halfe houre to seuen: now trust me you have an exceeding fine lodging here, very neat, and priuate.

C

Aye sir, sit downe I pray you: Signior Matheo (in any case) possesse no gentlemen of your acquaintance withnotice of my lodging.

J

Who I sir? no.

C

Not that I neede to care who know it, but in regard I would not be so popular and generall, as some be.

J

True Signior, I conceiue you.

C

For do you see sir, by the hart of my selfe (except it be to some peculiar and choice spirits, to whom I amextraordinarily ingag'd, as yourselfe, or so) I would not extend thus farre.

J

O Lord sir I resolue so.

C


Scene 1.3 22

What new booke have you there? what? Go by Hieronimo.

J

Aye, did you euer see it acted? is it not well pend?

C

Well pend: I would faine see all the Poets of our time pen such another play as that was; they will prate andswagger, and keepe a stirre of arte and deuises, when (by Gods #so) they are the most shallow pittifull fellowesthat liue upon the face of the earth againe.

J

Indeede, here are a number of fine speeches in this booke: O eyes, no eyes but fountaines fraught with teares;there is a conceit: Fountaines fraught with teares. O life, no life, but liuely forme of death: is it not excellent? Oworld, no world, but masse of publique wrongs; O Gods me: confusde and fild with murther and misdeeds. Is itnot simply the best that euer you heard? Ha, how do you like it?

C

It is good.

JTo thee the purest obiect of my sence,The most refined essence heauen couers,Send I these lines, whereon I do commenceThe happie state of true deseruing lovers.If they proue rough, vnpolish't, harsh and rude,Haste made that waste; thus mildly I conclude.

C

Nay proceed, proceed, where is this? where is this?

J


Scene 1.3 23

This sir, a toy of mine owne in my nonage: but when will you come and see my studie? good faith I can shew yousome verie good thinges I have done of late: that boote becomes your legge passing well sir, me thinks.

CSo, so, it is a fashion gentlemen vse.

J

Masse sir, and now you speake of the fashion, Signior Prosperos elder brother and I are fallen out exceedingly:this other day I hapned to enter into some discourse of a hanger, which I assure you, both for fashion andworkmanship was most beautifull and gentlemanlike; yet he condemned it for the most pide and ridiculous thateuer he saw.

C

Signior Guiliano, was it not? the elder brother?

J

Aye sir, he.

C

Hang him Rooke he? why he has no more iudgement then a malt horse. By S. George, I hold him the mostperemptorie absurd clowne (one of them) in Christendome: I protest to you (as I am a gentleman and a soldier) Inever talk't with the like of him: he has not so much as a good word in his bellie, all iron, iron, a good commoditiefor a smith to make hobnailes on.

J

Aye, and he thinkes to carrie it away with his manhood still where he comes: he brags he will give me thebastinado, as I heare.

C

How, the bastinado? how came he by that word trow?


Scene 1.3 24

JNay indeed he said cudgill me; I tearmd it so for the more grace.

C

That may be, for I was sure it was none of his word: but when, when said he so?

J

Faith yesterday they say, a young gallant a friend of mine told me so.

C

By the life of Pharaoh, if it were my case now, I should send him a challenge presently: the bastinado: comehither, you shall challenge him; I will shew you a tricke or two, you shall kill him at pleasure, the first stockado ifyou will, by this ayre.

J

Indeed you have absolute knowledge in the mistery, I have heard sir.

C

Of whom? of whom I pray?

J

Faith I have heard it spoken of diuers, that you have verie rare skill sir.

C

By heauen, no, not I, no skill in the earth: some small science, know my time, distance, or so, I have profest itmore for noblemen and gentlemens vse, then mine owne practise I assure you. Hostesse, lend us another bedstaffehere quickly: looke you sir, exalt not your point aboue this state at any hand, and let your poyneard maintaine


Scene 1.3 25

your defence thus: give it the gentleman. So sir, come on, o twine your bodie more about, that you may come to amore sweet comely gentlemanlike guard; so indifferent. Hollow your bodie more sir, thus: now stand fast on yourleft leg, note your distance, keep your due proportion of time: o you disorder your point most vilely.

J

How is the bearing of it now sir?

C

O out of measure ill, a well experienced man would passe upon you at pleasure.

J

How meane you passe upon me?

C

Why thus sir? make a thrust at me; come in upon my time; controll your point, and make a full carriere at thebodie: the best practis'd gentlemen of the time terme it the passado, a most desperate thrust, beleeue it.

J

Well, come sir,

C

Why you do not manage your weapons with that facilitie and grace that you should do, I have no spirit to playwith you, your dearth of iudgement makes you seeme tedious.

J

But one veny sir.

C


Scene 1.3 26

Fie veney, most grosse denomination, as euer I heard: o the stockado while you liue Signior, note that. Come puton your cloake, and we will go to some priuate place where you are acquainted, some tauerne or so, and we willsend for one of these fencers, where he shall breath you at my direction, and then I will teach you that tricke, youshall kill him with it at the first if you please: why I will learne you by the true iudgement of the eye, hand andfoot, to controll any mans point in the world; Should your aduersary confront you with a pistoll, it were nothing,you should (by the same rule) controll the bullet, most certaine by Pho ebus: vnles it were haileshot: what monyhave you about you sir?

J

Faith I have not past two shilling, or so.

C

It is somewhat with the least, but come, when we have done, we will call up Signior Prospero; perhaps we shallmeet with Coridon his brother there.

Exeunt.

Scene 1.4

Enter Thorello, Guiliano, Piso.

A

Piso, come hither: there lies a note within upon my deske; here take my key: it is no matter neither, where is theboy?

L

Within sir, in the warehouse.

A

Let him tell ouer that Spanish gold, and weigh it, and do you see the deliuerie of those wares to Signior Bentiuole:I will be there my selfe at the receipt of the money anon.

L


Scene 1.4 27

Verie good sir.

Exit Piso.

A

Brother, did you see that same fellow there?

K

Aye, what of him?

A

He is e'ene the honestest faithfull seruant, that is this day in Florence; (I speake a proud word now) and one that Idurst trust my life into his hands, I have so strong opinion of his love, if need were.

K

God send me never such need: but you said you had somewhat to tell me, what is it?

AFaith brother, I am loath to vtter it,As fearing to abuse your patience,But that I know your iudgement more direct,Able to sway the nearest of affection.

KCome, come, what needs this circumstance?

AI will not say what honor I ascribeVnto your friendship, nor in what deare stateI hold your love; let my continued zeale,The constant and religious regard,That I have euer caried to your name,My cariage with your sister, all contest,How much I stand affected to your house.


Scene 1.4 28

KYou are too tedious, come to the matter, come to the matter.

AThen (without further ceremony) thus.My brother Prospero (I know not how)Of late is much declin'd from what he was,And greatly alterd in his disposition.When he came first to lodge here in my house.Never trust me, if I was not proud of him:Me thought he bare himselfe with such obseruance,So true election and so faire a forme:And (what was chiefe) it shewd not borrowed in him,But all he did became him as his owne,And seemd as perfect, proper, and innate,Vnto the mind, as collor to the blood,But now, his course is so irregular,So loose affected, and depriu'd of grace.And he himselfe withall so farre falne offFrom his first place, that scarse no note remaines,To tell mens iudgements where he lately stood;He is growne a stranger to all due respect,Forgetfull of his friends, and not contentTo stale himselfe in all societies,He makes my house as common as a Mart,A Theater, a publike receptacleFor giddie humor, and diseased riot,And there, (as in a Tauerne, or a stewes,)He, and his wilde associates, spend their houres,In repetition of lasciuious iests,Sweare, leape, and dance, and reuell night by night,Controll my seruants: and indeed what not?

K

Faith I know not what I should say to him: so God saue me, I am eene at my wits end, I have tolde him inough,one would think, if that would serue: well, he knowes what to trust to for me: let him spend, and spend, anddomineere till his hart ake: if he get a peny more of me, I will give him this eare.

A

Nay good Brother have patience.


Scene 1.4 29

KS'blood, he mads me, I could eate my very flesh for anger: I marle you will not tell him of it, how he disquietsyour house,

AO there are diuers reasons to disswade me,But would your selfe vouchsafe to trauaile in it,(Though but with plaine, and easie circumstance,)It would, both come much better to his sence,And fauor lesse of griefe and discontent.You are his elder brother, and that titleConfirmes and warrants your authoritie:Which (seconded by your aspect) will breedA kinde of duty in him, and regard.Whereas, if I should intimate the least,It would but adde contempt, to his neglect,Heape worse on ill, reare a huge pile of hate,That in the building, would come tottring downe,And in her ruines, bury all our love.Nay more then this brother; (if I should speake)He would be ready in the heate of passion,To fill the eares of his familiars,With oft reporting to them, what disgraceAnd grosse disparagement, I had propos'd him.And then would they straight back him, in opinion,Make some loose comment upon euery word,And out of their distracted phantasies;Contriue some slander, that should dwell with me.And what would that be think you? mary this,They would give out, (because my wife is fayre,My selfe but lately married, and my sisterHere soiourning a virgin in my house)That I were iealous: nay, as sure as death,Thus they would say: and how that I had wrongdMy brother purposely, thereby to findeAn apt pretext to banish them my house.

K

Masse perhaps so.

ABrother they would beleeue it: so should I.(Like one of these penurious quackslaluers,)But trie experiments upon my selfe,


Scene 1.4 30

Open the gates vnto mine owne disgrace,Lend bareribd enuie, oportunitie.To stab my reputation, and good name.Enter Boba. and Matheo.

J

I will speake to him.

C

Speake to him? away, by the life of Pharoah you shall not, you shall not do him that grace: the time of daye to youGentleman: is Signior Prospero stirring?

K

How then? what should he do?

C

Signior Thorello, is he within sir?

A

He came not to his lodging to night sir, I assure you.

K

Why do you here? you.

C

This gentleman hath satisfied me, I will talke to no Scauenger.

K


Scene 1.4 31

How Scauenger? stay sir stay.

Exeunt.

A

Nay Brother Giuliano.

K

S'blood stand you away, if you love me.

AYou shall not follow him now I pray you,Good faith you shall not.

K

Ha? Scauenger? well goe to, I say little, but, by this good day (God forgiue me I should sweare) if I put it up so,say I am the rankest that euer pist. S'blood if I swallowe this, I will neere drawe my sworde in the sight of managaine while I liue; I will sit in a Barne with Madgeowlet first, Scauenger? 'Hart and I will goe neere to fill thathuge timbrell slop of yours with somewhat if I have good lucke, your Garagantua breech cannot carry it away so.

AO do not fret your selfe thus, never think of it.

K

These are my brothers consorts these, these are his Cumrades, his walking mates, he is a gallant, a Caueliero too,right hangman cut, God let me not liue, if I could not finde in my hart to swinge the whole nest of them, one afteranother, and begin with him first, I am grieu'd it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses, well heshall heare of it, and that tightly too, if I liue in faith.

ABut brother, let your apprehension (then)Runne in an easie current, not transportedWith heady rashnes, or deuouring choller,And rather carry a perswading spirit,Whose powers will pearce more gently; and allure,The imperfect thoughts you labour to reclaime,


Scene 1.4 32

To a more sodaine and resolu'd assent.

K

Aye, aye, let me alone for that I warrant you.

Bell rings.

A

How now? o the bell rings to breakefast. Brother Guiliano, I pray you go in and beare my wife company: I willbut give order to my seruants for the dispatche of some busines and come to you presently.

Exit Guil.Enter Cob.

A

What Cob? our maides will have you by the back (in faith) For comming so late this morning.

G

Perhaps so sir, take heede some body have not them by the belly for walking so late in the euening.

Exit.

ANow (in good faith) my minde is somewhat easd,Though not reposd in that securitie,As I could wish; well, I must be content,How ever I set a face of it to the world,Would I had lost this finger at a vente,So Prospero had never lodg'd in my house,Why it cannot be, where there is such resortOf wanton gallants, and young reuellers,That any woman should be honest long.Is it like, that factious beauty will preserueThe soueraigne state of chastitie vnscard,When such strong motiues muster, and make headAgainst her single peace? no, no: bewareWhen mutuall pleasure swayes the appetite,And spirits of one kinde and qualitie,Do meete to parlee in the pride of blood.Well (to be plaine) if I but thought the timeHad answer'd their affections: all the world


Scene 1.4 33

Should not perswade me, but I were a cuckold:Mary I hope they have not got that start.For opportunity hath balkt them yet,And shall do still, while I have eyes and earesTo attend the imposition of my hart,My presence shall be as an Iron Barre,Twixt the conspiring motions of desire,Yea euery looke or glance mine eye obiects,Shall checke occasion, as one doth his slaue,When he forgets the limits of prescription.Enter Biancha, with Hesperida.

M

Sister Hesperida, I pray you fetch downe the Rose water aboue in the closet: Sweete hart will you come in tobreakfast.

Exit Hesperida.

A

If she have ouerheard me now?

M

I pray thee (good Musse) we stay for you.

ABy Christ I would not for a thousand crownes.

M

What ayle you sweete hart, are you not well, speake good Musse.

A

Troth my head akes extreamely on a suddaine.

M


Scene 1.4 34

O Iesu!

A

How now? what?

M

Good Lord how it burnes? Musse keepe you warme, good truth it is this new disease, there is a number aretroubled withall: for Gods sake sweete heart, come in out of the ayre.

AHow simple, and how subtill are her answeres?A new disease, and many troubled with it.Why true, she heard me all the world to nothing.

M

I pray thee good sweet heart come in: the ayre will do you harme in troth.

A

I will come to you presently, it will away I hope.

M

Pray God it do.

Exit.

AA new disease? I know not, new or old,But it may well be call'd poore mortals Plague;For like a pestilence it doth infectThe houses of the braine: first it beginsSolely to worke upon the fantasie,Filling her seat with such pestiferous aire,As soone corrupts the iudgement, and from thence,Sends like contagion to the memorie,


Scene 1.4 35

Still each of other catching the infection,Which as a searching vapor spreads it selfeConfusedly through euery sensiue part,Till not a thought or motion in the mindBe free from the blacke poison of suspect.Ah, but what error is it to know this,And want the free election of the souleIn such extreames? well, I will once more striue,(Euen in despight of hell) my selfe to be,And shake this feauer off that thus shakes me.Exit.

Act 2

Scene 2.1

Enter Musco disguised like a soldier.

B

S'blood, I cannot chuse but laugh to see my selfe translated thus, from a poore creature to a creator; for now mustI create an intolerable sort of lies, or else my profession looses his grace, and yet the lie to a man of my coat, is asominous as the Fico. o sir, it holds for good policie to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, that inwardly ismost deare to us: So much for my borrowed shape. Well, the troth is, my maister intends to follow his sondriefoot to Florence, this morning: now I knowing of this conspiracie, and the rather to insinuate with my youngmaster, (for so must we that are blew waiters, or men of seruice do, or else perhaps we may weare motley at theyeares end, and who weares motley you know:) I have got me afore in this disguise, determining here to lie inambuscado, and intercept him in the midway: if I can but get his cloake, his purse, his hat, nay any thing so I canstay his iourney, Rex Regum, I am made for euer in faith: well, now must I practise to get the true garbe of one ofthese Launceknights: my arme here, and my: Gods #so, young master and his cousin.

Enter Lo.iu. and Step.

F

So sir, and how then?

I

Gods foot, I have lost my purse, I think.

F


Act 2 36

How? lost your purse? where? when had you it?

I

I cannot tell, stay.

B

S'lid I am afeard they will know me, would I could get by them.

F

What? have you it?

I

No, I think I was bewitcht, I.

F

Nay do not weep, a poxe on it, hang it let it go.

I

O it is here; nay if it had beene lost, I had not car'd but for a iet ring Marina sent me.

F

A iet ring? o the poesie, the poesie?

I

Fine in faith: Though fancie sleepe, my love is deep: meaning that though I did not fancie her, yet she loved medearely.


Act 2 37

FMost excellent.

I

And then I sent her another, and my poesie was; The deeper the sweeter, I will be iudg'd by Saint Peter.

F

How, by S. Peter: I do not conceiue that.

I

Marrie, S. Peter to make up the meeter.

F

Well, you are beholding to that Saint, he help't you at your need; thanke him, thanke him.

B

I will venture, come what will: Gentlemen, please you chaunge a few crownes for a verie excellent good bladehere; I am a poore gentleman, a soldier, one that (in the better state of my fortunes) scornd so meane a refuge, butnow it is the humour of necessitie to have it so: you seeme to be gentlemen well affected to martiall men, els Ishould rather die with silence, then liue with shame: how ever, vouchsafe to remember it is my want speakes, notmy selfe: this condition agrees not with my spirit.

F

Where hast thou seru'd?

B


Act 2 38

May it please you Signior, in all the prouinces of Bohemia, Hungaria, Dalmatia, Poland, where not? I have beenea poore seruitor by sea and land, any time this xiiij. yeares, and follow'd the fortunes of the best Commaunders inChristendome. I was twise shot at the taking of Aleppo, once at the reliefe of Vienna; I have beene at America inthe galleyes thrise, where I was most dangerously shot in the head, through both the thighes, and yet being thusmaim'd I am voide of maintenance, nothing left me but my scarres, the noted markes of my resolution.

I

How will you sell this Rapier friend?

B

Faith Signior, I referre it to your owne iudgement; you are a gentleman, give me what you please.

I

True, I am a gentleman, I know that; but what though, I pray you say, what would you aske?

B

I assure you the blade may become the side of the best prince in Europe.

F

Aye, with a veluet scabberd.

I

Nay if it be mine it shall have a veluet scabberd, that is flat, I would not weare it as it is if you would give me anangell.

B

At your pleasure Signior, nay it is a most pure Toledo.


Act 2 39

II had rather it were a Spaniard: but tell me, what shall I give you for it? if it had a siluer hilt

F

Come, come, you shall not buy it; holde there is a shilling friend, take thy Rapier.

I

Why but I will buy it now, because you say so: what shall I go without a rapier?

F

You may buy one in the citie.

I

Tut, I will buy this, so I will; tell me your lowest price.

F

You shall not I say.

I

By Gods lid, but I will, though I give more then it is worth.

F

Come away, you are a foole.

I

Friend, I will have it for that word: follow me.


Act 2 40

BAt your seruice Signior.

Exeunt.

Scene 2.2

Enter Lorenzo senior.

DMy labouring spirit being late opprestWith my sons follie, can embrace no rest,Till it hath plotted by aduise and skill,How to reduce him from affected willTo reasons manage; which while I intend,My troubled soule beginnes to apprehendA farther secret, and to meditateUpon the difference of mans estate:Where is deciphered to true iudgements eyeA deep, conceald, and precious misterie.Yet can I not but worthily admireAt natures art: who (when she did inspireThis heat of life) plac'd Reason (as a king)Here in the head, to have the marshallingOf our affections: and with soueraigntieTo sway the state of our weake emperie.But as in diuers commonwealthes we see,The forme of gouernment to disagree:Euen so in man who searcheth soone shall findAs much or more varietie of mind.Some mens affections like a sullen wife,Is with her husband reason still at strife.Others (like proud Archtraitors that rebellAgainst their soueraigne) practise to expellTheir liege Lord Reason, and not shame to treadUpon his holy and annointed head.But as that land or nation best doth thriue,Which to smoothfronted peace is most procliue,So doth that mind, whose faire affections rang'dBy reasons rules, stand constant and vnchang'd,Els, if the power of reason be not such,Why do we attribute to him so much?Or why are we obsequious to his law,If he want spirit our affects to awe?O no, I argue weakly, he is strong,Enter Musco.


Scene 2.2 41

DAlbeit my son have done him too much wrong.

B

My master: nay faith have at you: I am flesh: now I have sped so well: Gentleman, I beseech you respect theestate of a poor soldier; I am asham'd of this base course of life (God is my comfort) but extremitie prouokes meto it, what remedie?

D

I have not for you now.

B

By the faith I beare vnto God, gentleman, it is no ordinarie custome, but onely to preserue manhood. I protest toyou, a man I have bin, a man I may be, by your sweet bountie.

D

I pray thee good friend be satisfied.

B

Good Signior: by Iesu you may do the part of a kind gentleman, in lending a poore soldier the price of two cans ofbeere, a matter of small value, the King of heauen shall pay you, and I shall rest thankfull: sweet Signior.

D

Nay if you be so importunate

B

O Lord sir, need will have his course: I was not made to this vile vse; well, the edge of the enemie could not haveabated me so much: it is hard when a man hath serued in his Princes cause and be thus. Signior, let me deriue asmall peece of siluer from you, it shall not be given in the course of time, by this good ground, I was faine to


Scene 2.2 42

pawne my rapier last night for a poore supper, I am a Pagan els: sweet Signior.

DBeleeue me I am rapte with admiration,To think a man of thy exterior presence,Should (in the constitution of the mind)Be so degenerate, infirme, and base.Art thou a man? and sham'st thou not to beg?To practise such a seruile kinde of life?Why were thy education never so meane,Hauing thy limbes: a thousand fairer coursesOffer themselues to thy election.Nay there the warres might still supply thy wants,Or seruice of some vertuous Gentleman,Or honest labour; nay what can I name,But would become thee better then to beg?But men of your condition feede on sloth,As doth the Scarabe on the dung she breeds in,Not caring how the temper of your spiritsIs eaten with the rust of idlenesse.Now afore God, what ever he be, that shouldReleeue a person of thy qualitie,While you insist in this loose desperate course,I would esteeme the sinne not thine but his.

B

Faith signior, I would gladly finde some other course if so.

D

Aye, you would gladly finde it, but you will not seeke it.

B

Alasse sir, where should a man seeke? in the warres, there is no assent by desart in these dayes, but: and forseruice would it were as soone purchast as wisht for (Gods my comfort) I know what I would say.

D

What is thy name.


Scene 2.2 43

BPlease you: Portensio.

DPortensio?Say that a man should entertaine thee now,Would thou be honest, humble, iust and true.

B

Signior: by the place and honor of a souldier.

DNay, nay, I like not these affected othes;Speake plainly man: what thinkst thou of my words?

B

Nothing signior, but wish my fortunes were as happy as my seruice should be honest.

D

Well follow me, I will prooue thee, if thy deedes Will cary a proportion to thy words.

Exit Lor.

B

Yes sir straight, I will but garter my hose; o that my bellie were hoopt now, for I am readie to burst with laughing.S'lid, was there euer seene a foxe in yeares to betray himselfe thus? now shall I be possest of all hisdeterminations, and consequently and my young master well he is resolu'd to proue my honestie: faith and I amresolued to proue his patience: o I shall abuse him intollerablie: this small peece of seruice will bring him cleaneout of love with the soldier for euer. It is no matter, let the world think me a bad counterfeit, if I cannot give himthe slip at an instant: why this is better then to have staid his iourney by halfe, well I will follow him: o how I longto be imployed.

Exit.


Scene 2.2 44

Scene 2.3

Enter Prospero, Bobadilla, and Matheo.

J

Yes faith sir, we were at your lodging to seeke you too.

E

O I came not there to night.

C

Your brother deliuered us as much.

E

Who Guiliano?

C

Guiliano? Signior Prospero, I know not in what kinde you value me, but let me tell you this: as sure as God I dohold it so much out of mine honor and reputation, if I should but cast the least regard upon such a dunghill offlesh; I protest to you (as I have a soule to be saued) I never saw any gentlemanlike part in him: if there were nomore men liuing upon the face of the earth, I should not fancie him by Pho ebus.

J

Troth nor, he is of a rusticall cut, I know not how: he doth not carrie himselfe like a gentleman.

E

O signior Matheo, that is a grace peculiar but to a few; quos quus amauit Iupiter.


Scene 2.3 45

JI vnderstand you sir.

Enter Lorenzo iunior, and Step.

E

No question you do sir: Lorenzo; now on my soule welcome; how doest thou sweet raskall? my Genius? S'blood Ishall love Apollo, and the mad Thespian girles the better while I liue for this; my deare villaine, now see there issome spirit in thee: Sirrah these be they two I writ to thee of, nay what a drowsie humor is this now? why doestthou not speake?

F

O you are a fine gallant, you sent me a rare letter.

E

Why was it not rare?

F

Yes I will be sworne I was never guiltie of reading the like, match it in all Plinies familiar Epistles, and I will havemy iudgement burnd in the eare for a rogue, make much of thy vaine, for it is inimitable. But I marle what Camellit was, that had the cariage of it? for doubtlesse he was no ordinarie beast that brought it.

E

Why?

F

Why sayest thou? why doest thou think that any reasonable creature, especially in the morning, (the sober time ofthe day too) would have taine my father for me?

E


Scene 2.3 46

S'blood you iest I hope?

F

Indeed the best vse we can turne it to, is to make a iest of it now: but I will assure you, my father had the prouingof your copy, some howre before I saw it.

E

What a dull slaue was this? But sirrah what sayd he to it in faith?

F

Nay I know not what he said. But I have a shrewd gesse what he thought.

E

What? what?

F

Mary that thou art a damn'd dissolute villaine, And I some graine or two better, in keeping thee company.

E

Tut that thought is like the Moone in the last quarter, it will change shortly: but sirrah, I pray thee be acquaintedwith my two Zanies here, thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in them if thou hearst them once, but what strangepeece of silence is this? the signe of the dumbe man?

F

O sir a kinsman of mine, one that may make our Musique the fuller if he please, he hath his humor sir.

E


Scene 2.3 47

O what is it? what is it?

F

Nay: I will neyther do thy iudgement, nor his folly that wrong, as to prepare thy apprehension: I will leaue him tothe mercy of the time, if you can take him: so.

E

Well signior Bobadilla: signior Matheo: I pray you know this Gentleman here, he is a friend of mine, and one thatwill well deserue your affection, I know not your name signior, but I shall be glad of any good occasion, to bemore familiar with you.

I

My name is signior Stephano, sir, I am this Gentlemans cousin, sir his father is mine vnckle; sir, I am somewhatmelancholie, but you shall commaund me sir, in whatsoeuer is incident to a Gentleman.

C

Signior, I must tell you this, I am no generall man, embrace it as a most high fauour, for (by the host of Egypt) butthat I conceiue you, to be a Gentleman of some parts, I love few words: you have wit: imagine.

I

Aye truely sir, I am mightily given to melancholy.

J

O Lord sir, it is your only best humor sir, your true melancholy, breedes your perfect fine wit sir: I ammelancholie my selfe diuers times sir, and then do I no more but take your pen and paper presently, and write youyour halfe score or your dozen of sonnets at a sitting.

F

Masse then he vtters them by the grosse.


Scene 2.3 48

ITruely sir and I love such things out of measure.

F

In faith, as well as in measure.

J

Why I pray you signior, make vse of my studie, it is at your seruice.

I

I thanke you sir, I shall be bolde I warrant you, have you a close stoole there?

J

Faith sir, I have some papers there, toyes of mine owne doing at idle houres, that you will say there is somesparkes of wit in them, when you shall see them.

E

Would they were kindled once, and a good fire made, I might see selfe love burnd for her heresie.

I

Cousin, is it well? am I melancholie inough?

F

O I, excellent.


Scene 2.3 49

ESignior Bobadilla? why muse you so?

F

He is melancholy too.

C

Faith sir, I was thinking of a most honorable piece of seruice was perform'd to morrow; being S Marks day: shallbe some ten years.

F

In what place was that seruice, I pray you sir?

C

Why at the beleaguing of Ghibelletto, where, in lesse then two houres, seuen hundred resolute gentlemen, as anywere in Europe, lost their liues upon the breach: I will tell you gentlemen, it was the first, but the best leaguer thateuer I beheld with these eyes, except the taking in of Tortosa last yeer by the Genowayes, but that (of all other)was the most fatall and dangerous exploit, that euer I was rang'd in, since I first bore armes before the face of theenemy, as I am a gentleman and a souldier.

I

So, I had as liefe as an angell I could sweare as well as that gentleman.

F

Then you were a seruitor at both it seemes.

C

O Lord sir: by Phaeton I was the first man that entred the breach, and had I not effected it with resolution, I hadbene slaine if I had had a million of liues.


Scene 2.3 50

FIndeed sir?

I

Nay if you heard him discourse you would say so: how like you him?

C

I assure you (upon my saluation) it is true, and your selfe shall confesse.

E

You must bring him to the racke first.

C

Obserue me iudicially sweet signior: they had planted me a demy culuering, iust in the mouth of the breach; nowsir (as we were to ascend) their master gunner (a man of no meane skill and courage, you must think) confrontsme with his Linstock ready to give fire; I spying his intendement, discharg'd my Petrinell in his bosome, and withthis instrument my poore Rapier, ran violently upon the Moores that guarded the ordinance, and put thempellmell to the sword.

E

To the sword? to the Rapier signior.

F

O it was a good figure obseru'd sir: but did you all this signior without hurting your blade.

C


Scene 2.3 51

Without any impeach on the earth: you shall perceiue sir, it is the most fortunate weapon, that euer rid on a pooregentlemans thigh: shall I tell you sir, you talke of Moroglay, Excaliber, Durindana, or so: tut, I lend no credit tothat is reported of them, I know the vertue of mine owne, and therfore I dare the boldlier maintaine it.

I

I marle whether it be a toledo or no?

C

A most perfect toledo, I assure you signior.

I

I have a countriman of his here.

J

Pray you let us see sir: yes faith it is.

C

This a Toledo? pissa

I

Why do you pish signior?

C

A Fleming by Pho ebus, I will buy them for a guilder a peece and I will have a thousand of them.

F

How say you cousin, I told you thus much.


Scene 2.3 52

EWhere bought you it signior?

I

Of a scuruy rogue Souldier, a pox of God on him, he swore it was a Toledo.

C

A prouant Rapier, no better.

J

Masse I think it be indeed.

F

Tut now it is too late to looke on it, put it up, put it up.

I

Well I will not put it up, but by Gods foote, and ere I meete him

E

O it is past remedie now sir, you must have patience.

I

Horson connycatching Raskall; o I could eate the very hilts for anger.

F


Scene 2.3 53

A signe you have a good Ostrich stomack Cousin.

I

A stomack? would I had him here, you should see and I had a stomacke.

E

It is better as it is: come gentlemen shall we goe?

Enter Musco.

F

A miracle cousin, looke here, looke here.

I

O, Gods lid, by your leaue, do you know me sir.

B

Aye sir, I know you by sight.

I

You sold me a Rapier, did you not?

B

Yes marry did I sir.

I

You said it was a Toledo ha?


Scene 2.3 54

BTrue I did so.

I

But it is none.

B

No sir, I confesse it, it is none.

I

Gentlemen beare witnesse, he has confest it. By Gods lid, if you had not confest it

F

O cousin, forbeare, forbeare.

I

Nay I have done cousin.

E

Why you have done like a Gentleman, he has confest it, what would you more?

F

Sirrah how doost thou like him.

E


Scene 2.3 55

O it is a pretious good foole, make much on him: I can compare him to nothing more happely, then a Barbersvirginals; for euery one may play upon him.

B

Gentleman, shall I intreat a word with you?

F

With all my heart sir, you have not another Toledo to sell, have ye?

B

You are pleasant, your name is signior Lorenzo as I take it.

F

You are in the right: S'bloud he meanes to catechize me I think.

B

No sir, I leaue that to the Curate, I am none of that coate.

F

And yet of as bare a coate; well, say sir.

B

Faith signior, I am but seruant to God Mars extraordinarie, and indeed (this brasse varnish being washt off, andthree or foure other tricks sublated) I appeare yours in reuersion, after the decease of your good father, Musco.

F

Musco, s'bloud what winde hath blowne thee hither in this shape.


Scene 2.3 56

BYour Easterly winde sir, the same that blew your father hither.

F

My father?

B

Nay never start, it is true, he is come to towne of purpose to seeke you.

F

Sirrah Prospero: what shall we do sirrah, my father is come to the city.

E

Thy father: where is he?

B

At a Gentlemans house yonder by Saint Anthonies, where he but stayes my returne; and then

E

Who is this? Musco?

B

The same sir.

E


Scene 2.3 57

Why how comst thou transmuted thus?

B

Faith a deuise, a deuise, nay for the love of God, stand not here Gentlemen, house your selues and I will tell youall.

F

But art thou sure he will stay thy returne?

B

Do I liue sir? what a question is that?

E

Well we will prorogue his expectation a little: Musco thou shalt go with us: Come on Gentlemen: nay I pray thee(good raskall) droope not, s'hart if our wits be so gowty, that one old plodding braine can outstrip us all, Lord Ibeseech thee, may they lie and starue in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the face of any truespirit againe, but be perpetually haunted with some churchyard Hobgoblin in seculo seculorum.

B

Amen, Amen.

Exeunt.

Act 3

Scene 3.1

Enter Thorello, and Piso.

L

He will expect you sir within this halfe houre.


Act 3 58

AWhy what is a clocke?

L

New striken ten.

A

Hath he the money ready, can you tell?

L

Yes sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.

A

O that is well: fetch me my cloake.

Exit Piso

AStay, let me see; an hower to goe and come,Aye that will be the least: and then it will beAn houre, before I can dispatch with him;Or very neare: well, I will say two houres;Two houres? ha? things never drempt of yetMay be contriu'd, aye and effected too,In two houres absence: well I will not go.Two houres; no fleering opportunityI will not give your trecherie that scope.Who will not iudge him worthy to be robd,That sets his doores wide open to a theefe,And shewes the felon, where his treasure lyes?Againe, what earthy spirit but will attemptTo taste the fruite of beauties golden tree,When leaden sleepe seales up the dragons eyes?O beauty is a Proiect of some power,Chiefely when oportunitie attends her:


Act 3 59

She will infuse true motion in a stone,Put glowing fire in an Icie soule,Stuffe peasants bosoms with proud Csars spleene,Powre rich deuice into an empty braine:Bring youth to follies gate: there traine him in,And after all, extenuate his sinne.Well, I will not go, I am resolu'd for that.Goe cary it againe, yet stay: yet do too,I will deferre it till some other time.Enter Piso.

L

Sir, signior Platano will meet you there with the bond.

A

That is true: by Iesu I had cleane forgot it. I must goe, what is a clocke?

L

Past ten sir.

A'Hart, then will Prospero presently be here too,With one or other of his loose consorts.I am a Iew, if I know what to say,What course to take, or which way to resolue.My braine (me thinkes) is like an howerglasse,And my imaginations like the sands,Runne dribling foorth to fill the mouth of time,Still chaung'd with turning in the ventricle.What were I best to do? it shall be so.Nay I dare build upon his secrecie? Piso.

L

Sir.

A


Act 3 60

Yet now I have bethought me too, I will not. Is Cob within?

L

I think he be sir.

ABut he will prate too, there is no talke of him.No, there were no course upon the earth to this,If I durst trust him; tut I were secure,But there is the question now, if he should prooue,Rimarum plenus, then, s'blood I were Rookt.The state that he hath stood in till this present,Doth promise no such change: what should I feare then?Well, come what will, I will tempt my fortune once.Piso, thou mayest deceiue me, but I think thou lovest me Piso.

L

Sir, if a seruants zeale and humble duetie may be term'd love, you are possest of it.

A

I have a matter to impart to thee, but thou must be secret, Piso.

L

Sir for that

ANay heare me man; think I esteeme thee well,To let thee in thus to my priuate thoughts;Piso, it is a thing, sits neerer to my crest,Then thou art ware of: if thou shouldst reueale it

L

Reueale it sir?


Act 3 61

ANay, I do not think thou wouldst, but if thou shouldst:

L

Sir, then I were a villaine: Disclaime in me for euer if I do.

AHe will not sweare: he has some meaning sure,Else (being vrg'd so much) how should he choose,But lend an oath to all this protestation?He is no puritane, that I am certaine of.What should I think of it? vrge him againe,And in some other forme: I will do so.Well Piso, thou hast sworne not to disclose; aye you did sweare?

L

Not yet sir, but I will, so please you.

ANay I dare take thy word.But if thou wilt sweare; do as you think good,I am resolu'd without such circumstance.

LBy my soules safetie sir I here protest,My tongue shall never take knowledge of a wordDeliuer'd me in compasse of your trust.

AEnough, enough, these ceremonies need not,I know thy faith to be as firme as brasse.Piso come hither: nay we must be closeIn managing these actions: So it is,(Now he has sworne I dare the safelier speake;)I have of late by diuers obseruations But, whether his oath be lawfull yea, or no, ha?I will aske counsel ere I do proceed:


Act 3 62

Piso, it will be now too long to stay,We will spie some fitter time soone, or to morrow.

L

At your pleasure sir.

AI pray you search the bookes gainst I returneFor the receipts twixt me and Platano

L

I will sir.

AAnd heare you: if my brother ProsperoChance to bring hither any gentlemenEre I come backe: let one straight bring me word.

L

Very well sir.

A

Forget it not, nor be not you out of the way.

L

I will not sir.

AOr whether he come or no, if any other,Stranger or els? faile not to send me word.

L


Act 3 63

Yes sir.

AHave care I pray you and remember it.

L

I warrant you sir.

A

But Piso, this is not the secret I told thee of.

L

No sir, I suppose so.

A

Nay beleeue me it is not.

L

I do beleeue you sir.

ABy heauen it is not, that is enough.Marrie, I would not thou shouldst vtter itTo any creature liuing, yet I care not.Well, I must hence: Piso conceiue thus much,No ordinarie person could have drawneSo deepe a secret from me; I meane not this,But that I have to tell thee: this is nothing, this.Piso, remember, silence, buried here:No greater hell then to be slaue to feare.Exit Tho.


Act 3 64

LPiso, remember, silence, buried here:Whence should this slow of passion (trow) take head? ha?Faith I will dreame no longer of this running humor.For feare I sinke, the violence of the streameAlreadie hath transported me so farre,That I can feele no ground at all: but soft,Enter Cob.

L

O it is our waterbearer: somewhat has crost him now.

G

Fasting dayes: what tell you me of your fasting dayes? would they were all on a light fire for me: they say theworld shall be consum'd with fire and brimstone in the latter day: but I would we had these ember weekes, andthese villanous fridaies burnt in the meane time, and then

L

Why how now Cob, what moues thee to this choller? ha?

G

Coller sir? swounds I scorne your coller, I sir am no colliers horse sir, never ride me with your coller, if you do, Iwill shew you a iades tricke.

L

O you will slip your head out of the coller: why Cob you mistake me.

G

Nay I have my rewme, and I be angrie as well as another, sir.

L


Act 3 65

Thy rewme; thy humor man, thou mistakest.

G

Humor? macke, I think it be so indeed: what is this humor? it is some rare thing I warrant.

L

Marrie I will tell thee what it is (as it is generally receiued in these daies) it is a monster bred in a man by selfelove, and affectation, and fed by folly.

G

How? must it be fed?

L

O aye, humor is nothing if it be not fed, why, didst thou never heare of that? it is a common phrase, Feed myhumor.

G

I will none of it: humor, auaunt, I know you not, be gon. Let who will make hungry meales for you, it shall not beI: Feed you quoth he s'blood I have much adoe to feed my self, especially on these leane rasscall daies too, if ithad beene any other day but a fasting day: a plague on them all for me: by this light one might have done Godgood seruice and have drown'd them all in the floud two or three hundred thousand yeares ago, o I do stomackethem hugely: I have a mawe now, if it were for sir Beuisses horse.

L

Nay, but I pray thee Cob, what makes thee so out of love with fasting daies?

G

Marrie that, that will make any man out of love with them, I think: their bad conditions if you will needs know:First, they are of a Flemmish breed I am sure of it, for they rauen up more butter then all the daies of the weekebeside: next, they stinke of fish miserably: Thirdly, they will keep a man deuoutly hungry all day, and at night


Act 3 66

send him supperlesse to bed.

L

Indeed these are faults Cob.

G

Nay if this were all, it were something, but they are the onely knowne enemies to my generation. A fasting day nosooner comes, but my lineage goes to racke, poore Cobbes they smoake for it, they melt in passion, and yourmaides too know this, and yet would have me turne Hannibal, and eat my owne fish and blood: my princelycouze, feare nothing; I have

'

Pul's out a red Herring.

G

not the heart to deuoure you, if I might be made as rich as Golias: o that I had roome for my teares, I could weepsalt water enough now to preserue the liues of ten thousand of my kin: but I may curse none but these filthyAlmanacks, for if it were not for them, these daies of persecution would never be knowne. I will be hang'd if someFishmongers son do not make on them, and puts in more fasting daies then he should do, because he would vtterhis fathers dried stockfish.

L

S'oule peace, thou wilt be beaten

Enter Matheo, Prospero, Lo.iunior, Bobadilla, Stephano, Musco.

L

like a stockfish else: here is Signior Matheo. Now must I looke out for a messenger to my Master.

Exeunt Cob and Piso.


Act 3 67

Scene 3.2

E

Beshrew me, but it was an absolute good iest, and exceedingly well caried.

F

Aye and our ignorance maintained it as well, did it not?

E

Yes faith, but was it possible thou should'st not know him?

F

Fore God not I, and I might have beene ioind patten with one of the nine worthies for knowing him. S'blood man,he had so writhen himselfe into the habit of one of your poore Disparuiew's here, your decaied, ruinous,wormeeaten gentlemen of the round: such as have vowed to sit on the skirts of the city, let your Prouost and hishalf dozen of halberders do what they can; and have translated begging out of the olde hackney pace, to a fineeasy amble, and made it runne as smooth of the toung, as a shouegroat shilling, into the likenes of one of theseleane Pirgo's, had he moulded himselfe so perfectly, obseruing euerie tricke of their action, as varying the accent:swearing with an Emphasis. Indeed all with so speciall and exquisite a grace, that (hadst thou seene him) thouwouldst have sworne he might have beene the Tamberlaine, or the Agamemnon on the rout.

E

Why Musco: who would have thought thou hadst beene such a gallant?

F

I cannot tell, but (vnles a man had iuggled begging all his life time, and beene a weauer of phrases from hisinfancie, for the appartelling of it) I think the world cannot produce his Riuall.

E


Scene 3.2 68

Where got'st thou this coat I marl'e.

B

Faith sir, I had it of one of the deuils neere kinsmen, a Broker.

E

That cannot be, if the prouerbe hold, a craftie knaue needs no broker.

B

True sir, but I need a broker, Ergo no crafty knaue.

E

Well put off, well put off.

F

Tut, he has more of these shifts.

B

And yet where I have one, the broker has ten sir.

Enter Piso.

L

Francisco: Martino: never a one to be found now, what a spite is this?

E

How now Piso? is my brother within?


Scene 3.2 69

LNo sir, my master went forth e'ene now: but Signior Giuliano is within. Cob, what Cob: is he gone too?

E

Whither went thy master? Piso canst thou tell?

L

I know not, to Doctor Clements, I think sir. Cob.

Exit Piso.

F

Doctor Clement, what is he? I have heard much speech of him.

E

Why, doest thou not know him? he is the Gonfalionere of the state here, an excellent rare ciuilian, and a greatscholler, but the onely mad merry olde fellow in Europe: I shewed him you the other day.

F

O I remember him now; Good faith, and he hath a very strange presence me thinkes, it shewes as if he stoode outof the ranke from other men. I have heard many of his iests in Padua: they say he will commit a man for takingthe wall of his horse.

E

Aye or wearing his cloake of one shoulder, or any thing indeede, if it come in the way of his humor.

L

Gasper, Martino, Cob: S'hart, where should they be trow?


Scene 3.2 70

Enter Piso.

C

Signior Thorello's man, I pray thee vouchsafe us the lighting of this match.

L

A pox on your match, no time but now to vouchsafe?

Francisco, Cob. Exit.

C

Body of me: here is the remainder of seuen pound, since yesterday was sevennight. It is your right Trinidado: didyou never take any, signior?

I

No truly sir? but I will learne to take it now, since you commend it so.

C

Signior beleeue me, (upon my relation) for what I tell you, the world shall not improue. I have been in the Indies(where this herbe growes) where neither my selfe, nor a dozen Gentlemen more (of my knowledge) have receiuedthe taste of any other nutriment, in the world, for the space of one and twentie weekes, but Tabacco onely.Therefore it cannot be but it is most diuine. Further, take it in the nature, in the true kinde so, it makes anAntidote, that (had you taken the most deadly poysonous simple in all Florence, it should expell it, and clarifieyou, with as much ease, as I speak. And for your greene wound, your Balsamum, and your are all meeregulleries, and trash to it, especially your Trinidado: your Newcotian is good too: I could say what I know of thevertue of it, for the exposing of rewmes, raw humors, crudities, obstructions, with a thousand of this kind; but Iprofesse my selfe no quackesaluer: only thus much: by Hercules I do holde it, and will affirme it (before anyPrince in Europe) to be the most soueraigne, and pretious herbe, that euer the earth tendred to the vse of man.

F

O this speech would have done rare in a pothecaries mouth.

L


Scene 3.2 71

Aye; close by Saint Anthonies: Doctor Clements.

Enter Piso and Cob.

G

O, O.

C

Where is the match I gaue thee?

L

S'blood would his match, and he, and pipe, and all were at Sancto Domingo.

Exit.

G

By gods deynes: I marle what pleasure or felicitie they have in taking this rogish Tabacco: it is good for nothingbut to choake a man, and fill him full of smoake, and imbers: there were foure died out of one house last weekewith taking of it, and two more the bell went for yesternight, one of them (they say) will never scape it, hevoyded a bushell of foote yesterday, vpward and downeward. By the stockes; if there were no wiser men then I,I would have it present death, man or woman, that should but deale with a Tabacco pipe; why, it will stifle themall in the end as many as vse it; it is little better then rats bane.

Enter Piso.

X

O good signior; hold, hold.

C

You base cullion, you.

L

Sir, here is your match; come, thou must needes be talking too.


Scene 3.2 72

GNay he will not meddle with his match I warrant you: well it shall be a deere beating, if I liue.

C

Do you prate?

F

Nay good signior, will you regard the humor of a foole? away knaue.

E

Piso get him away.

Exit Piso, and Cob.

G

A horson filthy slaue, a turd, an excrement. Body of Cesar, but that I scorne to let forth so meane a spirit, I wouldhave stab'd him to the earth.

E

Mary God forbid sir.

C

By this faire heauen I would have done it.

I

O he sweares admirably: (by this faire heauen:) Body of Cesar: I shall never do it, sure (upon my saluation) no Ihave not the right grace.


Scene 3.2 73

JSignior will you any? By this ayre the most diuine Tabacco as euer I drunke.

F

I thanke you sir.

I

O this Gentleman doth it rarely too, but nothing like the other. By this ayre, as I am a Gentleman: by Pho ebus.

Exit Bob. and Mat.

B

Master glaunce, glaunce: Signior Prospero.

I

As I have a soule to be saued, I do protest;

E

That you are a foole.

F

Cousin will you any Tabacco?

I

Aye sir: upon my saluation.


Scene 3.2 74

FHow now cousin?

I

I protest, as I am a Gentleman, but no souldier indeede.

E

No signior, as I remember you seru'd on a great horse, last generall muster.

I

Aye sir that is true: cousin may I sweare as I am a souldier, by that?

F

O yes, that you may.

I

Then as I am a Gentleman, and a souldier, it is diuine Tabacco.

E

But soft, where is signior Matheo? gone?

B

No sir, they went in here.

E


Scene 3.2 75

O let us follow them: signior Matheo is gone to salute his mistresse, sirrah now thou shalt heare some of hisverses, for he never comes hither without some shreds of poetrie: Come signior Stephano, Musco.

I

Musco? where? is this Musco?

F

Aye, but peace cousin, no words of it at any hand.

I

Not I by this faire heauen, as I have a soule to be saued, by Pho ebus.

E

O rare! your cousins discourse is simply suted, all in oathes.

F

Aye, he lacks nothing but a little light stuffe, to draw them out withall, and he were rarely fitted to the time.

Exeunt.

Scene 3.3

Enter Thorello with cob.

A

Ha, how many are there, sayeth thou?

G

Marry sir, your brother, Signior Prospero.


Scene 3.3 76

ATut, beside him: what strangers are there man?

G

Strangers? let me see, one, two; masse I know not well there is so many.

A

How? so many?

G

Aye, there is some fiue or sixe of them at the most.

A

A swarme, a swarme, Spight of the Deuill, how they sting my heart! How long hast thou beene comming hitherCob?

G

But a little while sir.

A

Didst thou come running?

G

No sir.


Scene 3.3 77

ATut, then I am familiar with thy haste.Bane to my fortunes: what meant I to marrie?I that before was rankt in such content,My mind attir'd in smoothe silken peace,Being free master of mine owne free thoughts,And now become a slaue? what never sigh,Be of good cheare man: for thou art a cuckold,It is done, it is done: nay when such flowing store,Plentie it selfe fals in my wiues lappe,The Cornucopia will be mine I know. But Cob,What entertainment had they? I am sureMy sister and my wife would bid them welcome, ha?

G

Like ynough: yet I heard not a word of welcome.

ANo, their lips were seal'd with kisses, and the voiceDrown'd in a flood of ioy at their arriuall,Had lost her motion, state and facultie.Cob, which of them was it that first kist my wife?(My sister I should say) my wife, alas,I feare not her: ha? who was it sayst thou?

G

By my troth sir, will you have the truth of it?

A

O aye good Cob: I pray thee.

G

God is my iudge, I saw no body to be kist, vnlesse they would have kist the post, in the middle of the warehouse;for there I left them all, at their Tabacco with a poxe.

A


Scene 3.3 78

How? were they not gone in then ere thou cam'st?

G

O no sir.

A

Spite of the Deuill, what do I stay here then? Cob, follow me.

Exit. Tho.

G

Nay, soft and faire, I have egges on the spit; I cannot go yet sir: now am I for some diuers reasons hammering,hammering revenge: o for three or four gallons of vineger, to sharpen my wits: Revenge, vineger revenge, russetrevenge; nay, if he had not lyne in my house, it would never have greeu'd me; but being my guest, one that I willbe sworne, my wife has lent him her smocke off her backe, while his owne shirt has beene at washing: pawnd herneckerchers for cleane bands for him: sold almost all my platters to buy him Tabacco; and yet to see aningratitude wretch: strike his host; well I hope to raise up an host of furies for it: here comes M. Doctor.

Enter Doctor Clement, Lorenzo sen. Peto.

H

What is Signior Thorello gone?

P

Aye sir.

H

Hart of me, what made him leaue us so abruptly How now sirrah; what make you here? what wold you have, ha?

G

If it please your worship, I am a poore neighbour of your worships.


Scene 3.3 79

HA neighbour of mine, knaue?

G

Aye sir, at the signe of the watertankerd, hard by the greene lattice: I have paide scot and lotto there anytime thiseighteene yeares.

H

What at the green lattice?

G

No sir: to the parish: mary I have seldome scapt scot free at the lattice.

H

So: but what busines hath my neighbour?

G

If it like your worship, I am come to craue the peace of your worship.

H

Of me, knaue? peace of me, knaue? did I ever hurt thee? did I euer threaten thee? or wrong thee? ha?

G

No god is my comfort, I meane your worships warrant, for one that hath wrong'd me sir: his armes are at toomuch libertie, I would faine have them bound to a treatie of peace, and I could by any meanes compasse it.


Scene 3.3 80

DWhy, doest thou goe in danger of thy life for him?

G

No sir; but I goe in danger of my death euery houre by his meanes; if I die within a tweluemoneth and a day, Imay sweare, by the lawes of the land, that he kil'd me.

H

How? how knaue? sweare he kil'd thee? what pretext? what colour hast thou for that?

G

Mary sir: both blacke and blew, colour ynough, I warrant you I have it here to shew your worship.

H

What is he, that gaue you this sirrah?

G

A Gentleman in the citie sir.

H

A Gentleman? what call you him?

G

Signior Bobadilla.


Scene 3.3 81

HGood: But wherefore

every man in his humour by ben johnson

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